Page 1 of Cruel Russian Monster (Safin Bratva #2)

I stepped out of the casino and slid my sunglasses back on to block the midday sun.

You’d think that as the underboss of the Safin Bratva, I’d be back in Philly, at my brother’s side, helping hold shit together.

For Christ's sake, Lev and his wife, Katya, just had a kid. A baby boy named Alexi. Lev needed all the support he could get. Not only that, the faction had been bleeding through chaos for the past year.

But I wasn’t there.

I was in Las Vegas.

Not for pleasure.

But for retribution.

My target? Vera Rykov.

My ex.

The woman who cracked open my chest and pissed on the pieces.

The reason our family’s empire is fucking crumbling.

About a year ago, when Lev said he was planning to marry Vera, whose family had always been a rival faction, my heart fucking stopped.

He wanted to seal the alliance because he’d found out that Artyom, her oldest brother and head of the Rykov faction, was running an elite intel brokerage.

We’re talking top-tier shit—files from Interpol, the CIA, even MI6.

With access like that, our faction would have leveled up overnight, stayed dominant and untouchable on U.S. soil.

But Vera ran. She disappeared for a whole damn week before the wedding.

And as twisted as it sounds, I was glad. Because I didn’t think I could’ve stomached seeing my brother marry the woman I once fucked and loved.

But guess what? It also pissed me the fuck off.

I felt as though she played me. Again. Not only that, but she played my family and had us looking like fucking idiots.

Her disappearing act kicked off a goddamn domino effect that sent everything spiraling.

When both men thought they’d been double-crossed by the other, shit escalated fast.

When Artyom wanted blood, heads rolled. This time was no different. He called me directly and declared the Safin faction an enemy.

As far as I knew, there was a complication with the wedding between Lev and Vera, but he was handling it.

After that call from Artyom, though? I wasn’t taking any chances. I rounded up our siblings: Marten, Avit, Pyotr, Mariya, and Ninel, and we rolled up to Lev’s place.

That’s when he finally came clean. That he’d kidnapped Vera and married her.

I damn near blacked out.

But the second I laid eyes on her, I knew she wasn’t Vera.

My sisters took to Katya instantly, but I kept my distance. I didn’t trust women, not after what Vera had done to me. And until I knew who sent her look-alike and why she was planted in Lev’s life, I wasn’t about to start.

And sure enough, the truth slapped us across the face at a party later that night when the real Vera walked in.

Everyone, except me, was stunned. Seeing Katya and Vera side by side was like copy and paste: same curves, same blonde hair, and same icy blue eyes.

But it made Lev wonder, who the fuck did he marry?

Some digging turned up the rest: Katya was a Rykov

That made it Artyom’s responsibility, whether he liked it or not.

Artyom hated Katya from the jump. According to him, she was nothing but a mistake, leftover trash. So when Lev agreed to annul the marriage and send Katya back in exchange for Vera, Artyom readily agreed, and my gut went cold.

But none of that played out.

Because by then, Lev had already fallen for Katya.

I wouldn’t lie; I was relieved Lev found a woman he loved who wasn’t Vera.

The tightness that had built up in my chest over the past months faded.

Relief doesn’t come easy in our world, but that was the closest I’d come.

Then we found out Katya was pregnant.

And when Lev found out someone had snatched her from the clinic, he damn near lost his mind. Artyom swore he had nothing to do with it.

He demanded that he, Yegor, and Zahkar help us look for her since she was their sister.

Lev didn’t trust him. None of us Safin brothers did.

But we couldn’t afford to turn down help, even from snakes.

We found her, took out the bastards who’d grabbed her, and cleaned out the rest of the scum guarding the area. She was shaken, but had no physical injuries.

And just when we thought we could breathe, when Katya was safe in Lev's arms, Artyom, with his weapon raised, turned on us.

He demanded that Katya go back with them.

But she stood her ground, looked Artyom dead in the eye, and told him no. And if I didn’t respect her before, I damn sure did then.

She and Vera might look the same, might both carry Rykov blood, but only one of them understood loyalty to the man who claimed them. Only one of them knew what love looked like.

Though Katya was able to give us some information about her kidnappers and their plans to dismantle both the Safin and Rykov factions, we still had no idea who the hell they were, to this day.

Whoever they were, they were organized and smart, using mercenaries to do their dirty work. But they'll make a mistake, and when they do, the Safin family is prepared to do whatever it takes to wipe them out.

The worst part of all the drama we'd gone through?

Katya had nightmares about her kidnapping. She was seeing a therapist, doing what she could to cope, but with the fear of Artyom breathing down her neck, it’d been hell.

What pissed me off most? He was her goddamn brother. He should have been protecting her, not making her fight battles she never asked for.

In my opinion, she’d had enough of those to last a lifetime. And if I could find an opening to justify ending that motherfucker sooner than later, and give her a peace of mind? I’d do it without hesitation.

And as for Artyom? The bastard felt betrayed, even though it was Vera’s disappearance that lit the fucking match.

He’d openly declared war on our faction, and he wasn’t playing games.

He'd been cutting us off from other Bratva families, raiding our warehouses, ordering drive-by hits, anything to stir chaos and unrest.

Meanwhile, Vera and her siblings, Kira, Yegor, and Zahkar, lived carefree.

And Katya? She couldn’t sleep at night, too damn scared someone was gonna kick down their door and snatch her son right out of her hands.

Lev was training her, and there were guns stashed all over their house now, but a new mom should be bonding with her baby, not trying to survive a fucking war zone.

But that wasn’t even the craziest part.

The craziest part was pretending.

Pretending Vera and I didn’t have a past.

Pretending I didn't hate her.

Pretending I didn't want to put a bullet between her eyes for the shit she caused.

Because you see, despite everything that was happening between both factions, Lev allowed Vera and Kira to visit Katya at their home, unknown to Artyom. And they brought her letters from Yegor and Zahkar.

Ever since Lev decided to let Katya’s sisters visit her, I'd been keeping an eye on Vera. Timur thought it was just to keep Katya safe, but it was to make sure I knew where Vera was and who she was with.

Fifteen minutes later, I sat in my truck, eyes locked on the souvenir boutique Vera had just walked into. My grip on the steering wheel was tight enough to split the leather. She wore a red wig, a baseball cap, and sunglasses.

Why was it that every time I saw her, she looked more beautiful than the last?

I clenched my jaw.

She shouldn't still have this effect on me. Not after what she did. Not after the way she ripped through me like I was nothing.

I tracked her through the wide boutique windows as a sales clerk approached her. They exchanged a few words, and the clerk led her toward a showcase.

Then she laughed.

I couldn’t hear it from here, but I didn’t need to. I knew that laugh. The same one she used when she was in my arms, tangled in the sheets under me, whispering promises she never meant to keep.

My fingers curled tighter around the wheel.

After our parents' deaths, Lev stopped believing in love. He said it was a weakness, but Katya had gotten under his skin from the very first day they met. Just as Vera had gotten under mine.

It was three years ago in Delaware. I was out for a drink. I needed to get out of Philadelphia to recharge. It was the anniversary of my parents’ deaths, and I just needed to clear my head.

She was sitting alone at the bar, legs crossed, lips red, blonde curls brushing her shoulders. The black dress clung to her like a second skin.

My eyes ravished her, and my cock responded instantly. But I didn’t move. I preferred watching as her lips wrapped around the straw. How the drink slowly glided down her throat.

Then some prick decided to put his hands on her.

He came over and started talking to her. From the way her body tensed, I knew she was uncomfortable. She got up to leave, and he grabbed her arm. My glass barely hit the table before I was on him. I snapped his wrist clean and walked her out without a word.

She was shaking as she thanked me. I asked her to let me walk her to her car, and she did. She got in and drove off. I followed to make sure she was safe. Once she was inside her hotel, I made my way home.

I found myself at that bar every weekend after that.

It took three weeks before she showed up again. When she spotted me, she came straight over and asked if she could sit. I nodded, and that was it.

Vera was charm-laced with poison. She laughed easily and smiled sweetly. But it was all a fucking trap. One I didn’t see coming until it was too late, because she already had me under her spell.

By our third meeting, I kissed her by her car and claimed her as mine. She readily accepted the title.

We kept our relationship quiet. Being in a powerful Bratva faction meant having enemies. I couldn’t afford for any of them to know she existed, least of all what she meant to me.

I fell for her. Hard. And the six months we spent together, she destroyed me in the best way, just as I did to her.

Then one day, she sent me a goddamn text that she was breaking up with me. That she was just using me to make her ex jealous. Now that they were back together, she didn't need me anymore.

We had never even exchanged last names while dating, but then? Then I had to know who she was, so I dug. And what I found out made my blood boil.

She was a fucking Rykov. I was sleeping with the enemy.

Coincidence? I thought not!

She had to know who I was; that was why she came back to the bar. It was a setup from the start. Get close to me and tap out after a while just to mess with my head.

I wanted revenge! But Lev needed me. We had siblings to take care of and the Safin faction to keep above water.

But now that she was back in my sights, my thirst for revenge heightened. Revenge was best served cold and all that shit.

She left a hollowness in me that could never be filled. Now, years later, she was the reason why other Bratva factions were alienating themselves from us, opening us up to more enemies.

There was a thin line between love and hate, and Vera would soon know which side of the line I stood on.

Vera moved out of sight further into the store. Five minutes passed, and I didn't see her again.

Where the hell was she?

I got out of the truck and entered the boutique. The little bell above the door jingled. My body tensed with each step as I scanned the aisles, eyes hunting for red curls and a familiar scent. But she was nowhere to be seen.

Then I spotted it. Another exit at the back of the store.

Fuck!

Vera had slipped away.

I walked back out, my fists clenched by my side.

“You can run, Vera,” I muttered. “But you can’t hide forever.”

She was out of Philly, stupidly alone and unprotected.

This was the opening I’d been waiting for. The perfect opportunity to strike. The Rykovs would never see it coming.